


The Scent of Madness

by Jenksel



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: AU, Aphrodisiacs, Casskins, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Married Couple, Mild Smut, Original Character(s), Perfume, Pets, Tree of Love, married Cassandra/Jenkins l Galahad, very light angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 21:46:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14387772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenksel/pseuds/Jenksel
Summary: Cassandra finally creates a perfume from the blossoms of her and Jenkins's Tree of Love.An epilogue to "The Seal of the Tree".  If you haven't already, you might want to take a quick look at it so you'll have a better idea of what's going on here.





	The Scent of Madness

Eve Baird and Flynn Carsen _finally_ left the Annex for the night; Jacob Stone and Ezekiel Jones had already left an hour earlier.  As soon as the Librarian and the Guardian disappeared through the back door, Cassandra slipped out from behind her desk and all but skipped across the floor to where Jenkins was perched behind his own high oak desk.  He didn’t notice her approach, his attention absorbed in the letter he was writing, the quill pen skittering over the sheet of heavy stationary bearing the letterhead of the Metropolitan Public Library.  On the floor next to his stool, Franklin the tea dragon was attempting to solve a puzzle toy with a treat hidden inside.  The toy was originally intended for dogs, but Jenkins had found them very useful when he needed to distract the energetic little dragon long enough to get some work done undisturbed.

“Jenkins!  How would you like to help me with an experiment?” she asked excitedly.  The Library’s Caretaker looked up from his letter and gave an apologetic smile to his young wife.

“I’m afraid I can’t at the moment, my dear,” he replied.  “I must finish this letter of request tonight; I want it to go out in tomorrow’s mail.”  Rather than the look of disappointment he was expecting to see, Cassandra instead narrowed her eyes and gave him a slightly mischievous smile.

“But I think you’ll be especially interested in _this_ experiment,” she countered mysteriously.  She reached into the pocket of her bright blue cardigan and pulled out a small glass bottle of ruby-red, deliberately plunking it onto the desk next to her husband’s hand.  Mildly intrigued, Jenkins replaced his quill pen back into its holder and picked up the cylindrical bottle.  He removed the stopper, then cautiously sniffed the contents.  His nostrils were immediately filled with a sickly-sweet, floral scent.  The odor seemed familiar to him at first, then he remembered it.  He looked at Cassandra, his brows raised in surprise.

“Tree of Love blossoms?” he asked, and she nodded her head vigorously, her long red curls bouncing.  She now had the immortal’s full attention.

“I gathered a big basketful of them before our wedding ceremony, while the Tree was in bloom.  I’ve been working ever since on distilling them into a perfume!” she informed him eagerly.  “That little book about Trees of Love that I found in the Library gave pretty detailed instructions, so I decided to give it a try.  I followed the directions to the letter, and now—voila!  It’s finished!”  She came around to Jenkins’s side of the desk and slipped her arm around his waist as she brought her lips next to his ear.

“The book calls it ‘The Scent of Madness’.  That’s where _you_ come in,” she murmured, her warm breath tickling her husband’s ear.  “It’s time to test it out!”  Jenkins turned his head to face her, his nose almost touching hers.

“Ah, I see—the experiment you spoke of; you now wish to discover how accurate that rather lurid name is, find out if the perfume’s reputed aphrodisiacal properties are real, I presume?” he asked, closing the tiny gap between them and touching his nose to hers.

“You understand, my dear, that the perfume made from the blossoms of a Tree of Love is supposed to be an incredibly powerful aphrodisiac for a couple Sealed by a Tree?  It’s one of the very few _true_ aphrodisiacs in existence, said to drive the parties involved into paroxysms of uncontrollable desire!”  Cassandra lowered her face so that her forehead now touched his.

“So the book says,” she said quietly.  “But I didn’t feel anything when I smelled the perfume after it was finished.  Did you?”  Jenkins shook his head slowly, not raising his forehead from hers.

“It doesn’t work that way,” he said, his voice low.  He raised his head from hers and turned in his chair so that he could face her comfortably.

“When we were Sealed, our DNA was ‘infused’, for lack of a better word—or perhaps ‘imprinted’ is a good word?  ‘Incorporated’?”  Jenkins shook his head and waved a hand to dismiss the tangential thought that threatened to distract him from the main topic. 

“Regardless, our genetic codes were magically joined to that of our Tree,” he began to explain.  “That, of course, includes the blossoms.  When the oil is pressed from the blossoms and distilled into a perfume, the DNA is carried over into that perfume.  Thus, when one or both of the parties involved wears the perfume, if the DNA encoded in the perfume matches that of the wearers, then the aphrodisiacal qualities of the flower’s oil is released.  That, in turn, blends with the wearer’s body chemistry, and _that_ is when the perfume becomes what people think of when they hear the word ‘aphrodisiac’.”  The tall man stood up from the desk and stretched his aching back muscles.

“That’s why the perfume of one Tree only works for the couple who are Sealed by that particular Tree, but the perfume made from a different Tree does _not_ work,” he concluded the lecture.  “In other words, only our Tree carries our DNA, therefore the perfume from our Tree acts as an aphrodisiac only for us.  It would never work for another couple, even one Sealed by a Tree.” 

“The book didn’t say anything about DNA or genetics or anything remotely like that,” she said, impressed by her husband’s encyclopedic knowledge.

“Yes, well, you must remember, my dear, that book was written centuries ago, before such things were even dreamed of.  Oh!” he exclaimed suddenly as an idea came to him.  “You and I should write a _new_ volume about Trees of Love, Cassandra!  I daresay that we’re the only ones on the entire planet who are uniquely qualified to write...”  He fell silent when he caught the impatient look on the redheaded woman’s face. 

“Forgive me, my dear.”  Smiling, he held up the red bottle of perfume. 

“Shall we try it, then?” he asked, roguishly waggling his eyebrows.  “Shall we find out what madness smells like, exactly?”  The Librarian laughed.

“Yes, we shall!” she chirped eagerly, bouncing on her toes.  She took the bottle and set it on the desk, then ran back to her own desk.  She pulled open a drawer and pulled out a large atomizer made from dark purple cut-glass.  She carried it back to where Jenkins was waiting and held it up triumphantly.

“I thought this might work better than just smearing it all over us,” she said.  She pointed the nozzle of the atomizer at her throat as she tilted her head back and closed her eyes, giving the fat, tasseled bulb two hard squeezes.  The air was instantly filled with the sweet, heady scent of flowers.  Cassandra turned the atomizer toward the tall Caretaker and also gave his throat two good sprays of the perfume.  For a few seconds the air was almost too thick with the cloying scent to tolerate, but soon it began to dissipate.  The two stood looking at each other expectantly for several minutes.

“Feel any different?” Cassandra eventually asked with a hopeful, quizzical expression.  Jenkins shook his head.

“Do you?” he asked, and she shook her head in return, her face falling.

“I don’t understand!” she said.  “I did exactly what the book said, I followed the directions to the letter!  Why didn’t it work?”  Jenkins took her hands in his.

“Perhaps the instructions were recorded incorrectly,” he suggested, trying to bolster the disappointed woman.  “It wouldn’t be the first time such a thing happened, unfortunately.”  The frustrated look of on Cassandra’s face only deepened.

“Oh... _fiddlesticks_!” she spat and set the atomizer on the desk with a hard, sharp thud.  Jenkins bent and enfolded the disheartened Librarian in his arms to give her a hug.

“I’m sorry, my dear,” he said sympathetically.  “I know how it feels to have worked hard on something only to have it not turn out as hoped.  That’s never more true than when working with things magical.  But you may be successful yet, so don’t give up!  It could very well be that an ingredient was intentionally left out, in order to prevent amateurs from reproducing the scent or to protect the proprietary nature of any given formula.  That was a common practice in those days.  Perhaps tomorrow we can go back over your notes and the instructions in the book and see if we can find out what went wrong?  Try again?”  As Cassandra sighed and tightened her arms around his waist in response to his offer.

“Yes, well—I think a cup of tea is in order now,” he announced briskly as he let go of his wife.  Nothing soothes bruised expectations like a nice hot cup of tea.  Will you join me, my love?”  He held out his crooked elbow hopefully, and Cassandra slipped her arm through it, breaking into a smile.

“I thought you’d never ask!” she piped, her mood rebounding.  As they started down the hallway leading to the kitchen, the immortal turned and bent his head to affectionately kiss her cheek.

It was the last thing Jenkins remembered before his vision exploded into a kaleidoscope of colors he had never seen before in his entire life.

 

* * *

 

Franklin peered cautiously out of his hiding place and looked around the now quiet Annex workroom.  It had been quiet for the last couple of hours now, but he had thought it wise to stay hidden during that entire time, just to be on the safe side.  Not seeing or hearing anything, he warily emerged from beneath the antique map cabinet that occupied the back of the small alcove behind Bái Shān’s tall desk.  He’d spent the last several hours there, ever since his adoptive parents had gotten into the huge fight that began the night before.  He had _never_ seen them attack each other like that before, and it terrified the small dragon.  The moans, the cries, the crashing of the furniture and the fixtures, the shouts, the _screaming_!  He fearfully expected to see the room coated with their blood, but much to his relief there was no blood to be seen or smelled anywhere.

He looked around with wide, black eyes for the tall man and his mate, Chá Huā, but they were nowhere in sight.  The little reptile flicked his long tongue into the air several times as he moved his head around, trying to pick up their scent.  He soon found it, and bounded off to follow their trail, picking his way through the obstacle course of debris that now littered the workroom floor. 

He tracked his parents all the way to the Annex kitchen.  The door was shut tight, however, but that wasn’t much of an hindrance for a tea dragon.  He flattened his serpentine body as flat as he could and wriggled through the crack beneath the door, then went in search of the humans.  He quickly found them; Bái Shān and Chá Huā were lying on the floor, their eyes closed and not moving at all.  They didn’t even appear to be breathing.  He approached them slowly and uneasily, a small whimper of worried inquiry coming from deep in his throat.  Had they truly killed each other?  When he was close enough, his tongue slipped out to tickle Bái Shān’s cheek, periodically pausing to issue a loud barking sound as he called out frantically to the large human.

Jenkins scrunched his eyes tightly as he slowly floated into consciousness and became aware of an annoying sound reverberating through his head.  What _was_ that infernal racket?  He opened his eyes, blinking them rapidly at first against the bright, early morning sunlight streaming through the window.  He turned his head toward the source of the irritating sound and was surprised to see Franklin sitting next to him.  As soon as the dragon saw he was awake, Franklin began to gambol madly about in place, trilling an ecstatic and relieved greeting.  How did Franklin get into the bedroom?  He or Cassandra must’ve neglected to close the door properly last night before they went to bed...

The immortal shivered in the cool morning air.  He reached to pull his blankets up, only to realize that he wasn’t in his bedroom at all, but rather was lying spread-eagled on the cold tile of the Annex’s kitchen floor.  _How did I get here!?_ he wondered, completely confused.  He started to sit up, but was startled to find Cassandra was lying face-down on top of him, her head resting on his chest.  Neither of them had a stitch of clothing on their bodies. 

Jenkins lay back on the floor, utterly bewildered, his head feeling like it was packed with cotton.  _What on earth happened last night?_   He forced his sluggish brain to try to remember _some_ thing, _anything_. 

Cassandra wanted his help with an experiment.  An experiment involving what?  Something...with flowers?  Flowers from a Tree of Love— _their_ Tree of Love.  The perfume!  He remembered now:  Cassandra had made perfume of the flowers from their Tree, and she wanted to test it last night.  Test it for what?  He brought one hand up and rubbed his eyes in frustration. 

His muddled mind finally dredged up the answer he needed.  An aphrodisiac—the perfume was supposed to act as an aphrodisiac, according to lore.  The Caretaker’s brow wrinkled in puzzlement.  They had tried the perfume, he remembered the purple atomizer.  But it hadn’t worked.  Neither of them had felt anything.  She was disappointed.  They were going to make tea.  He tried to console her by hugging her, giving her a kiss on her cheek...

Suddenly the confused man’s eyes snapped wide open as he realized what had happened. 

_Oxytocin!_

The missing part of the instructions in Cassandra’s book, something that the ancient writer had no knowledge of when he recorded his formula.  The so-called ‘bonding hormone’ released during childbirth, orgasms and, to a much lesser extent, hugging or cuddling.  When he hugged Cassandra, kissed her, oxytocin was released into his system and hers, and acted as the final triggering agent for the aphrodisiacal properties of Cassandra’s perfume. 

Memories of the previous night began crashing into his consciousness:  They’d had sex, but not _just_ sex—it had been… _SEX_!  Wild, primitive, unrestrained, hedonistic, passionate.  They had pleasured each other without reservation or restraint in ways that the immortal hadn’t even thought possible, and had done so for _hours_.  Jenkins was stunned as he remembered some of the previous night’s activities.  He’d had intercourse with Cassandra at least five times last night, maybe even six.  He couldn’t even begin to put a number to the oral varieties.  It was as though he simply couldn’t get enough of her, nor she of him.  And he had absolutely no memory of how they had ended up in the kitchen.

The clock on the far wall chimed six o’clock, and a twinge of panic struck the Caretaker.  The others often began arriving in the Annex at seven o’clock; they would be here soon!

“Cassandra!  Wake up!” he said, gently shaking the naked Librarian.  “ _Cassandra_!”

Slowly she began to move on top of him, raising her head with its wild, tangled hair and yawning loudly.  “Huh?  Yeah, I’d love some pancakes, thanks,” she mumbled sleepily, looking around the room.  Her eyes suddenly popped open as she realized she was in the kitchen and naked, lying on top of her equally naked husband.

“Jenkins?!” she squeaked as she sat up and looking around frantically for her clothes.  “What happened?  Why are we naked in the kitchen?!  Where are my clothes??”  She stopped suddenly and gaped at her husband as he sat up on the floor, her mind now flooding with memories.

“Omigod!” she gasped.  “We had sex!”  Her blue eyes became wide as saucers as the memories sharpened.  “Oh, my God—we had _SO MUCH sex_!!”  She dropped her gaze, her cheeks turning bright pink with embarrassment, but soon a wide, shy smile came to her plump lips and she looked up at Jenkins conspiratorially. 

“So much _FANTASTIC_ sex!” she added, then giggled as she got a good look at her husband. 

“You have so many hickies all over you, Jenkins, you look like a Dalamation!”  Jenkins couldn’t help but smile in response.  He scooted forward so he could take her in his arms and hold her close, kiss her head affectionately.

“As do you, my dear!” he rumbled amusedly, unable to refrain from nuzzling her ear and cheek.  “It seems your experiment is a resounding success after all!”  He felt an irresistible surge of desire rise up within himself.  A distant part of his brain warned that this was probably a residual effect of the perfume and that he should fight it, but he paid it no attention.  Instead, he turned her face to his and kissed Cassandra deeply, his tongue slipping gently into her mouth and brushing hers tantalizingly.  One large hand found her breast and cupped it, lightly pinching her nipple between two long fingers.  He would’ve gone farther had the clock not sounded the quarter hour, snapping him back to reality and reminding him that they were now under a deadline.

“Oh, my dear God!” he exclaimed fretfully, releasing his wife, almost shoving her away.  “It’s a quarter past six—the others will be here any moment!”  The Librarian squealed in alarm as they scrambled to their feet.  As she started for the kitchen door, Cassandra suddenly stopped and bent over slightly, sucking in a breath of air in pain. 

“Cassandra, what’s wrong?” asked Jenkins anxiously.  She looked up at him as she straightened again, eyes suddenly full of fear. 

“I hurt,” she said simply.  “Down there.”  The immortal’s eyes widened.

“May I see?” he asked tentatively, not sure how she would react to such a question, but she merely nodded and spread her legs apart slightly.  Jenkins started to bend over to examine her, but a burning pain stabbed through his groin and into his lower abdomen.  He gasped and straightened up again, his hands going automatically to the source of the pain, his penis.  Unused to seeing her husband in pain, a worried look came to Cassandra’s face and she reached out to touch him.

“Jenkins, what’s wrong?” 

“I have a theory, my dear,” he said tightly.  He turned away from her, blocking her view, but she could tell that he was examining himself.  After a couple of minutes, he turned to face her again.

“My I see your...’lady parts’, please?”  The Caretaker knelt carefully on the floor, wincing as he did so.  Cassandra again parted her legs and looked off into the distance as her husband carefully examined her.  He gently touched her labia with his fingers, and she flinched at the resultant pain.

“Ouch!” she gasped.  She looked down at Jenkins, beginning to become frightened.  “Jenkins, what is it?  What’s wrong with us?”  She saw the color drain from his face before he climbed slowly, painfully back to his feet.

 “Your lady parts are very irritated and slightly swollen, as are my male parts; there may even be some bruising involved,” he said, his voice rough.  He gave his wife an apologetic, anguished look.

“It seems that between the sheer excessive amount of intercourse we had last night and my...‘physical exuberance’, I ended up injuring both of us.”  His voice trembled slightly as he dropped his eyes, ashamed and horrified by what he had done to his wife.  “I’m so sorry, Cassandra!” he whispered.  Knowing how overly sensitive he was about hurting her, especially during sex—almost to the point being phobic—Cassandra quickly stood up on tip-toes and kissed him.

“You have _nothing_ to be sorry about, sweetheart!” she hurried to reassure the guilt-stricken man.  She gently placed her hands on either side of his face and turned it so she could look into his eyes. 

“You know, it’s not every man who can make his wife walk funny with an idiotic grin on her face after a night of ‘physical exuberance’!”  She smiled brightly up at him.  “Besides, from what I can remember, I was pretty exuberant, too, so there’s plenty of blame to go around!”  When her husband saw that she was sincere and wasn’t upset with him, he broke into a sheepish smile as well.  The young Librarian put her arms around him and hugged him tightly, and he returned her embrace, a long, soft growl of relief in his throat.

“I suggest that the next time we use your elixir, we use a _much_ smaller amount,” he said fervently.  “Clearly only a very small quantity is actually needed for enhancing one’s romantic life.”  The clock chimed six-thirty.  Jenkins instantly let go of Cassandra.

“We _have_ to get dressed, before the others get here,” he said worriedly.  Cassandra nodded in agreement and the two hurried from the kitchen.  Franklin, seeing them leaving, scurried ahead of them, happy to have his parents alive and apparently sane again.

Jenkins and Cassandra hadn’t gotten very far down the corridor before they began to find pieces of their clothing littering the floor in a ragged trail leading back to the workroom.  The Librarian found her bra and panties and held them up, shocked to see them torn and ruined.  A vague memory came to her of Jenkins literally ripping them from her body with his bare hands, just before he backed her up against the wall of the corridor, picking her up and pinning her there.  She recalled wrapping her long legs tightly around his waist, Jenkins groaning like a beast as he rammed into her savagely, while Cassandra laughed and shouted for him to thrust faster and harder.

Jenkins, meanwhile, found what was left of his tailored shirt, the garment missing nearly all of its buttons and one sleeve missing completely; Franklin had that at the moment, shaking it like a rat and growling.  Jenkins had a fuzzy recollection of Cassandra tearing it open and off of him in her eagerness to ‘get Galahad buck naked and find out just how good a ‘swordsman’ he is’, as she called it, all the while kissing and biting him—hard.  He recalled how her roughness had whipped his lust into an all-consuming madness to possess Cassandra—everywhere and in any way he could.

The two looked at each for a few seconds, mortified, then burst into raucous laughter. 

Without saying a word, the naked couple quickly gathered up the remnants of their clothing, following the pieces all the way back to the workroom; Jenkins never found his boxers, much to Cassandra’s glee.  As soon as they emerged from the hallway, though, the laughter stopped and they froze in their tracks, jaws dropping and their armloads of clothes falling to the floor at the sight of the demolished room before them.

“Oh, my God—did _we_ do this?” Cassandra breathed in disbelief.  Papers, books, artifacts and desk items were scattered everywhere.  Glass from shattered light bulbs glittered amongst the wreckage from the several lamps that had been knocked onto the floor.  The single long table that sat in the middle of the room was completely bare and separated into its two component tables, all the items that had covered it yesterday now spread all over the floor.  The Clippings Book was draped over the balcony railing, and Jenkins’s desk was now pushed all the way back into its alcove, coming to rest against the map cabinet, all of its items scattered about on the floor, save, ironically, for the purple atomizer.  It sat upright and undamaged on his desktop, as if in silent reproach of the pair.

Jenkins, the fingers of one hand lightly covering his mouth in dismayed shock as he surveyed the destruction, shook his silver head.  A memory suddenly formed in his head, of him bending Cassandra over the globe that housed the mechanism to the magic door, thrusting into her like a crazed bull after she had saucily ordered him to ‘fire up the back door, Jenkins!’  The tall man shivered at the delicious image in his mind; it had been _glorious_...

“We must have,” was all he could say, pulling himself from his reverie.  “I have a foggy recollection of moving some things out of our way, but I don’t remember anything like _this_!”  A slightly askew wall clock chimed out a warning:  It was now a quarter to seven.  Jenkins realized with rising panic that they would _never_ be able to explain this to the others.  Suddenly, an inspiration struck him.

“Cassandra, where’s your cell phone?” he asked quickly.  She looked up at him, startled by the question.

“Uh, I think I left it on my desk yesterday; why?”  Jenkins started across the room toward Cassandra’s work station.

“Stay where you are!” he ordered her, picking his way carefully through the debris in his bare feet.  As he searched around her desk, now sitting misaligned and bare, a memory returned to Cassandra, of her pushing him onto her desktop, the redhead hungrily clawing like a she-wolf at his trousers, the intoxicating thrill that ran through her when she saw his huge, engorged member, the howl of sinfully exquisite bliss that came from Jenkins when she eagerly took his manhood into her hot mouth and... 

She shook her head and refocused her attention on finding that damn cell phone.  There would be plenty of time for reflection on last night’s shenanigans later; right now they had to stop the others from coming to the Annex this morning.

Jenkins soon spotted the phone on the floor, almost completely covered by papers.  He grabbed it, seeing with relief that it was still functional.  He gingerly picked his way back to Cassandra and handed it to her.

“Quickly!  Text the others and tell them not to come to the Annex yet.  Tell them that...”  He struggled to think of something awful enough to keep Baird and the others away, but not so awful as to cause them concern.

“OH!  OH!” he blurted, waving his hands at her excitedly.  “Tell them that... _the skunks_!  The skunks…have all escaped from the Skunk Room!  Yes!  Yes!  Tell them not to come until you and I have recaptured them all and returned them to their enclosure!”  The Librarian stared at the large man.

“ _Skunk Room?!_ ” she yelped.  “We have a _Skunk Room_?  Why??”  He shot her an impatient look.

“ _Type_ , woman!  _Type_!” he barked at her frantically.  “Before it’s too late to stop them!”  Cassandra quickly started texting a group message to the Guardian and the other Librarians and sent it out.  Responses started coming in within a couple of minutes.

“Okay, looks like everyone’s got the message,” she said as she peered at her phone.  “Ezekiel says ‘LOL! That stinks!’”  The Librarian rolled her eyes at the dumb joke. 

“Jacob says he’ll stop by Costco and stock up on tomato juice for us to bathe in, and Flynn and Eve say to call them if we need any help; well, at least _they’re_ willing to be helpful!”  Jenkins took a deep breath and slowly released it, relieved to have the pressure off of him and Cassandra.

“Thank God!” he said.  “Now we have the time we need to get ourselves and this poor Annex put back into some semblance of order!”  He looked down at the redheaded woman next to him and realized that they were both still naked as jay birds, and began to laugh again at the ridiculousness of their situation.

“I suggest that we start with a nice hot shower and some fresh clothes,” he said, taking his wife’s hand and walking with her in the direction of their rooms.

“I don’t know—I kinda _like_ being naked,” she mused thoughtfully as they walked.  “It’s feels so—freeing!  Oooo!” she said excitedly as she waved her free hand in front of her.

“Maybe we should try going to a resort that caters to nudists!  We could spend a whole week or two running around, completely naked and free, with a whole bunch of other people who feel the same way as us!  Wouldn’t that be fun?”  She looked slyly up at her husband, and was pleased to see that her words had the desired effect.  Jenkins was looking down at her, his face the very picture of appalled horror.  As soon as she saw him she burst into loud guffaws of laughter and threw her arms around him.

“Wicked woman!” the Caretaker muttered, realizing that she was only teasing him.  At least, he _hoped_ she was only teasing him…

 

* * *

 

Several hours later both they and the Annex were back to normal, thanks to some old-fashioned elbow grease and the judicious use of a restoration spell to repair the things that were broken or damaged.  The injuries to the very sensitive parts of their bodies slowed them up considerably, since they weren’t able to move about as freely as they would’ve liked.  Cassandra found that she was unable to comfortably wear panties and had to forgo them that day, choosing to wear a very loose pair of sweatpants instead of her usual short skirt, much to Jenkins’s disappointment.  He wasn’t much better off but, soldier that he was, he went through the day without letting his own discomfort show.  He had quickly mixed up a soothing, healing balm for them that would eliminate the pain and swelling completely by the next morning.  In the meantime, they simply had to suffer. 

The pair inspected every inch of the Annex and the surrounding hallways to make sure they had erased all traces of their ‘experiment’.  When they were satisfied, Cassandra called the others to let them know it was safe to come in.  There was a close call, though, when, just as the back door was glowing to life, Franklin raced into the workroom with Jenkins’s missing boxer shorts clamped firmly between his teeth.  The horrified Caretaker had just enough time to intercept him, scooping up the squealing creature and dropping him—boxers and all—into a large file drawer in his desk and slamming it shut, plastering a Cheshire cat’s grin onto his face just as Jake and Ezekiel fell through the doorway.  As soon as they left the workroom Jenkins opened the drawer to free the animal and to retrieve the now shredded boxers so he could  dispose of them.

Later that night, the exhausted pair finally collapsed into the large bed they shared, snuggling up together in the middle of it as they relaxed after the long, stressful day.  Throughout the day, memories of the previous night’s X-rated deeds had drifted back to them, and now that they were alone they compared notes with quiet whispers and soft laughter.  Some of the things they’d done were surprising, if not outright shocking (at least to Jenkins), others were hilariously over the top, others still were actually tender and romantic.  Cassandra remembered that it was Jenkins who had insisted on a quick tea break before resuming their lusty pursuits.  The aphrodisiac had apparently begun to wear off by then and, crashing down from their euphoria, the half-addled pair had simply lain down on the kitchen floor and slipped immediately into sleep.

Despite the humorous memories and the intimacy of the current moment, Jenkins could sense that something was bothering Cassandra.  As the day had worn on, she’d become more and more quiet, almost withdrawn.  At first he’d attributed it to fatigue, but the special bond he shared with her now via their Sealing was telling him it was something more.  She was afraid.

“What’s wrong, my dear?” he asked when there was a lull in their talk.  The Librarian merely snuggled against his chest more closely and shook her head.

“Nothing, sweetheart.  Just tired, I guess,” she murmured.

“I don’t think so,” he countered gently.  “You forget, my dear little Tree-wife, that I can feel some of what you feel, and right now I’m getting a bad feeling about something.”  He kissed her head in encouragement.  “Won’t you tell me what’s troubling you?  Please?”

Cassandra sighed and tried to burrow even further into his arms.  She was quiet for several seconds before she spoke.

“We had an awful lot of sex last night,” she said.  Jenkins chuckled.

“Indeed!” he interjected.  She moved back from him so that she could see his face.  Her expression was one of worry, and he immediately became serious.

“Cassandra, what is it?” he asked again.

“What if…what if I’m _pregnant_ now?” she whispered fearfully.  The immortal blinked at her, surprised.

“We’ve been intimate many, many times, Cassandra, and you’ve never expressed a concern about pregnancy before.  Why are you so worried about it now?” he asked.  She bit her lower lip anxiously and dropped her gaze.

“I…I’ve been sort of...taking care of…things.  On my own.”  She glanced up into his confused brown eyes.  Seeing that he didn’t understand her, she decided that the time had arrived for her to come clean with him.  She took a steadying breath and forged ahead.

“I’ve been using magic to keep myself from getting pregnant!” she confessed.  “Just a small spell that I found in one of the books I found one day while doing research on hedge magic.  I’ve been casting the spell on myself every day ever since, but I was so excited about the perfume and testing it out that I completely forgot to do the spell yesterday!  And now, after last night, I’m scared that I might be…”  Her voice cracked with emotion, relief at being able to share the secret with her husband at last, shame at having kept it from him for so long and fear of being pregnant.

“I’m sorry, Jenkins!” she said, the words began spilling out of her.  “I know I should’ve talked to you about it first, I shouldn’t have gone behind your back!  I know we’ve talked about children before and that you’re open to them and everything and that we just sort of agreed that if it happens, it happens, but…but—I’m just not ready to be a parent, Jenkins!  And the truth is I may _never_ be ready!  I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m so sorry!  I didn’t mean to lead you on or anything like that!  I wasn’t trying to trick you or be deceptive, I promise!  I was hoping that maybe things would change and I _would_ want to be a mother one day, that someday I’d change my mind and _want_ to give you children and raise a family with you and everything, but—I just…I just...”   

By the time she ran out of words she was nearly in tears.  The immortal said nothing for a few minutes, too dumbfounded by the turn this conversation had taken.  He quickly gathered his thoughts, though, then tenderly pulled the upset woman to his chest again and held her, running his hand lightly over her back soothingly for a time before he spoke.

“First of all, Cassandra,” he said, his voice low and calm.  “Don’t ever apologize for how you feel about something.  You’re entitled to feel however you wish about any subject, even if someone else has different feelings about the same thing.”  He adjusted his hold on her small body, and thought he could feel her trembling, ever so slightly.

“Second, only _you_ can determine when or if you want children.  Perhaps we should’ve discussed this much earlier in our relationship and in much greater detail, but that’s water under the bridge now.  I will admit that, sometimes, I regret never having been a father, and wish that I could be.”  He felt Cassandra’s entire body tense up in his arms and hurried to finish his thoughts.

“ _But_ there are also times when I’m glad I’m not.  I made peace with myself on that question a very long time ago, Cassandra, long before we even met; I assure you that I’m perfectly content with a life without children.  And it’s important for you to understand that it’s perfectly acceptable to not have children if you don’t want them.  And it’s important for you to know that I would _never_ force you to have children against your will or just to please me— _never_!  I know what it’s like to be born into and raised by a family where one isn’t truly wanted; I would sooner cut off my own genitals than to put another child through that.  Besides,” he said gently as he held her close.  “There are many different kinds of families, my love, and they don’t have to share DNA to qualify as one.”  As he paused for a moment to let his words sink in, they heard a distant crashing sound coming from the direction of the workroom, immediately followed by a high-pitched squeal of glee from Franklin.  

“I understand that ‘pet-parenting’, for instance, is very similar to parenting a human child,” he sighed, wondering what kind of mischief the inquisitive little dragon had gotten into now.  The humorous moment served at least to relax Cassandra a bit.  Jenkins took a breath and then made his own confession.

“And finally—I must admit to you that I’ve sort of ‘taken care of things’ on my own, as well.”  It was Cassandra’s turn to be surprised.

“What?  What do you mean?” she asked.  Her eyes suddenly flew open wide and a look of horror came over her pale features.

“Oh, my God, Jenkins!  You didn’t get a vasectomy, did you?!”  Her husband started at the question, a look of horror on his face now mirroring her own.

“What?!  _No_!” he exclaimed, then shuddered involuntarily.  “Good God, woman, _no_!  What I meant was, I’m also guilty of using magic to prevent conception from occurring whenever we’re intimate.” Cassandra sat up in bed, holding the bedsheet up to cover herself, and gaped at her husband.  He hurried on to explain himself.

“I know that when we spoke about children earlier, we agreed to sort of leave it up to the Fates,” he began.  “But, do you remember that day in the park not long after that conversation?  When we saw the mother who was about your age, struggling with her small children?  I saw your face that day, Cassandra, I saw your eyes, and I knew then and there how you truly feel about being a parent.  I knew that you would never be comfortable in that role, and I was determined to spare you it.”  He paused, and laid his hand on top hers.  “So I took it upon myself to make sure that it would _never_ happen.”  A fearful look darkened Cassandra’s eyes.

“Oh, Jenkins,” she barely breathed with dread.  “What did you do?”  He was puzzled by her apprehension at first, but then realized that, based on his past revelations of secrets, she was expecting something truly awful.  He couldn’t help but chuckle softly as he rushed to quell her fears.

“Oh, my dear,” he reassured her.  “Don’t worry; it’s nothing so terrible as what you’re imagining!  I only used a spell that has rendered me infertile.  That’s all.  Much more powerful than the hedge magic you’ve been using, and it only had to be done once.  I know that I should have told you about it sooner, but I didn’t want you to feel like you were forcing me to do it.”  Cassandra stared at him, her face unreadable.

“A _permanent_ spell?” she asked in a small voice.  The immortal gave a small shake of his head.

“ _Not_ permanent, there _is_ a counter spell, but I will never use it.”   The Librarian stared at him, aghast at his revelation and its implications for a man with a lifespan of thousands—perhaps even _millions_ —of years.

“You mean that you won’t use it until after I’m…gone, right?  You’ll use it then, right?  Because you might meet someone new and want to…”  He quickly placed a long finger over her lips to silence her.

“Cassandra!” he said incredulously, looking directly into her eyes.  “Do you not remember our wedding vows?  Do you not remember what I vowed to you that day?”  She nodded her head.

“Yes, of course I do!  You said that there would never be anyone after me,” she replied, then burst into a flurry of heartfelt protests.  “But I would _never_ hold you to that, Jenkins!  Never!  I want you to be happy!  You might feel differently in the future—you might fall in love with someone again, someone who _does_ want kids, someone you’ll want to build a new life with, start a family with…”  He again placed a finger to her lips.

“No,” he said simply.  Cassandra was stunned into silence for a moment, then began to renew her arguments.  For a third time he put his finger to her lips.

“No, Cassandra,” he said quietly, looking directly into her wide blue eyes.  “I meant every single word of that vow.  There will be _no one_ after you.  There _can’t_ be.  I love _you_ far too much.”  He sat up next to the young Librarian and laid a hand on the side of her head, weaving his fingers into her long hair.

“How could you ever believe otherwise?” he asked.  “Can you not feel through our Sealing how deeply I love you?  I will love you for the rest of my days.  Only you.  You fill my heart to the brim, Cassandra, there’s no room in it for anyone else now, and I am perfectly happy with that.  Our bond will last well beyond death, my treasure, and I will have many, _many_ happy memories to console me after you’re…gone.”  His voice roughened as he spoke of her death, something he rarely allowed himself to even think about, let alone speak of.  He paused for a moment to get control of the emotions he felt rising.  When next he spoke, it was with a light, teasing tone.

“Including the memories of our time together last night during that veritable cavalcade of carnality— _those_ memories alone should tide me over for several centuries at the very least!”  Cassandra smiled sadly as she placed one of her small hands alongside her husband’s face.

“I just don’t want you to have any regrets, like with Charlene…” she whispered.  He shook his silver-white head slowly.

“The only regret I will ever have where you’re concerned, Cassandra, is that I turned you down when you asked me out on a date that first time,” he said.  “Because I cheated myself out of an entire year of intimacy with you, and for that I will never forgive myself!”  The Librarian smiled at that, then leaned forward to kiss the man she loved so much.  His lips quickly parted to welcome her small, inquisitive tongue, and he wrapped his lanky arms around her as they kissed, nearly swallowing her up in his embrace.

“I wish we weren’t both so sore,” Cassandra whispered petulantly to him after they parted and she rested her head on his broad chest.

“You can’t possibly still have…’urges’?” Jenkins asked in disbelief.  “I mean no offense, my dear, but the mere _thought_ of physically…’coupling’ makes me somewhat nauseous!”  The young woman giggled and lay back onto the bed, tugging the immortal down with her.

“It makes me a little queasy, too,” she admitted.  “But at the same time I think it would be _so_ worth any pain it causes just to feel you slip that big, beautiful, massive…!” 

“Cassandra!” he interrupted in a scandalized tone before she could finish her sentence.  His primness regarding sexual matters tickled her no end, especially now that she knew just _how_ uninhibited he could be during sex; a porn star could take lessons from her noble, straight-laced husband!

“My handsome, puritanical knight in shining armor!” she teased, bursting into a loud fit of snickering.  Jenkins merely slipped his arm underneath her to pull her to himself and cuddled her.

“Always, my beautiful, insatiable little minx!” he said blithely, drawing even more laughter from Cassandra.  After a few minutes they quieted, relaxing into each other’s arms as they waited for sleep to come.

“Are you _really_ okay with not having children?” she asked timidly.

“Absolutely, my love,” he rumbled back warmly.  “I swear it to you, on my honor as a knight.”  Cassandra was silent for a few seconds as she blinked back tears of gratitude for having found this unbelievably understanding and generous man.

“I love you so much, Galahad,” she whispered.

“And I love you, too, Cassandra, very much,” he whispered back to her.

**Author's Note:**

> I've had some questions about the unicorns (also from "The Seal of the Tree"), especially the baby unicorn, and how they and Jenkins and Cassandra are doing in the wake of Tim's untimely death. I'm currently working on a fic about that, so stay tuned! And as always, thanks for reading!


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